


While Shepherds Watched

by marchingjaybird



Category: Daredevil (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-23
Updated: 2011-07-23
Packaged: 2017-10-21 16:49:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/227423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marchingjaybird/pseuds/marchingjaybird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank and Matt, a rooftop, and some coffee</p>
            </blockquote>





	While Shepherds Watched

He waited on the edge of the building, still as a statue as frigid winter wind howled past him. It cut right through the costume, sank into his bones, and it was only through a great effort of will that he didn’t just say _screw this_ and go inside for a cup of hot tea and a night of aimless conversation with Foggy. Though it was sorely tempting, the thought warmed him, reinforced his decision to stay on the roof. It was just his luck that the moment he called it a night, the moment he slipped the mask off to become Matt Murdock once again, something would happen to call him out and he’d spend the next week berating himself for thinking that he could enjoy an evening off.

Bootheels scrunched the gravel behind him, deliberate, heavy. Matt smiled, turned slightly. “Hello, Frank,” he murmured. His voice was lost in the howling wind, but by this point it was almost ritual and Frank would know what he’d said.

“Matt,” came the answer, noncommittal. Frank walked to the edge of the roof and stared down into the darkened street. “Having fun?” His trenchcoat – black, of course – snapped out almost vertical behind him.

“As much as could be expected,” Matt answered, his own voice matching Frank’s monotone. There was a lot between them, heavy rivalry, violent disagreements, disgust for one another’s methods. Other things…

“You know it’s Christmas, right?” There was a moment’s hesitation then the rustling of cloth, deliberately loud. Unnecessary, since the wind blew hard enough that he could hear where it curved around the hard planes of Frank’s huge body, but the gesture was appreciated. Matt reached up and took the Thermos, uncapping it and smiling at the strong scent of coffee.

“Is this my present?” Matt teased. He poured some into the cap, handed the Thermos back. Frank tapped it against the cap and they both drank. It was good coffee, rich and strong, and it suffused Matt’s frigid body with warmth.

“Thought I could give you that later.” Frank’s voice was as dark as the coffee, full of promise, and the shiver that crept up Matt’s spine had nothing to do with the cold.

“I’ll be out here all night,” Matt said. He downed the rest of the hot liquid and handed the cap back. Frank reassembled it, tucked it away in his trenchcoat. There was too much implication in Frank’s statement for him to be entirely comfortable. Their previous encounters – sweaty, hateful, rough fucking up against walls and on the hard floors of abandoned storage rooms and warehouses – had been satisfying in their own strange way. Lately, though, the last two times at least, there had been a strangeness in Frank’s manner, his hands curving almost tenderly along Matt’s body. He kissed more than he bit now, and whispered rough encouragement into the shell of Matt’s ear. It had become uncomfortably intimate, and Matt was ill equipped to deal with it.

All of this flashed through his mind, crept out into his voice. Frank either didn’t notice or pretended not to. “Shame,” he murmured. There was a rattle from his fist and Matt reached out again, slipping his fingers down the beads of a rosary to clasp the delicate crucifix. “The church down the road has a great Midnight Mass.”

And he was gone, turning on his heel and leaving Matt with a rosary and a vague sense of disquiet.

He found Frank at the door to the church thirty minutes later, looming at the foot of the stairs. “Thought you might come,” he said.

“Everyone needs a night off,” Matt answered. This wasn’t exactly what he’d envisioned, but it was good. It _felt_ good. “I assume you’re not wearing your usual.” Frank snorted as Matt reached up, fingers brushing the tight knot of a tie. “Never thought I’d see the day. So to speak.”

“Funny,” Frank commented, offering an arm. Matt took it, smiling broadly.

“Merry Christmas, Frank,” he murmured. A warm, rough hand covered his own, and they made their way up the steps into the warm, incense-laden air of the church.


End file.
